Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, or DBGT, or any main character in this story except Mira and Clair…they're from my own imagination.

Disclaimer 2: I also do not own any of the poetry that is presented in full or in part, they were written by Anonymous Author, John Bartlett and Emily Dickinson. Nor do I own the scripture presented, it is a part of the NIV version of the Holy Bible: written by God through his vessel man.

A/N: This chapter was hard to write, just because so much happened. Plus my computer died there for a long time and I had to wait to update. My apologies.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this. This is officially my first finished story (besides my one-shots of course).

A/N 2: Nii-san: "Older (big) Brother"

Thank you to all of my reviewers!

Twilight's Embrace

Part Three: Of Love, Life and Death

"Love is patient, Love is kind.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails…

And even now these three remain: Faith, Hope and Love.

But the greatest of these is Love." - First Corinthians 13:8-13

"No fair! You cheated Grandpa!" Shouted an irritated Mira as she lost her third game of chess against Gohan.

"Nope, sorry hun, no cheating here." Gohan chuckled, coughed lightly, then continued to chuckle. "Just plain know-how."

"Oh, you think you're so smart." Mira teased, setting the board for yet another rematch. "Let's see you beat this!"

She moved her pawn forward, and Gohan moved his. Within only a few minutes it was painfully obvious who was going to win. But Gohan humored his young granddaughter by allowing her to penetrate his defenses more than once. He smiled as she became frustrated and blundered move after move. Finally, he could delay her defeat no longer, and moved into check mate.

"Ooh!" She huffed, cramming the pieces into the box and standing to put the game away.

"I'll beat you some day." She said, standing on tip-toes to reach the tall game cupboard.

"Maybe so, hun. Maybe so." Gohan grinned, and slid back against the headboard.

She kissed his pale forehead as she left the room, softly letting the door 'click' into place. Gohan was bedridden now, completely unable to leave the room on his own. Many adjustments were made to his room, so he'd be comfortable and as immobile as possible. First, he didn't have to go far when Mother Nature called. Second, a stand was set up at the edge of the bed for his many pills and medicines. Third, and lastly, a pager was put on his wrist so he could get Pan's attention if he needed it. But, as of yet, he hadn't.

"You spoil that brat." Came the familiar bass voice from the corner of the room.

"Perhaps, but that's what grandpa's are for." Gohan never let the grin escape his face as Piccolo scoffed at him.

"You should be more strict. You were the same way with that daughter of yours…and now look at her." He said, watching Gohan's puzzled reaction.

"What about her?" He asked curiously.

Grunt. "She turned into your mother."

Gohan outright laughed at that, he supposed it was true. Pan did have a tendency to be pushy, bossy and otherwise domineering…just like ChiChi had been (and Videl for that matter). Gohan mingled coughs and laughs until his chest hurt from the shear force of it all. Piccolo had only rolled his eyes at first, but had to smirk once Gohan started to pound the bed in a fit of amusement. Piccolo had never been the type to joke around, or attempt any form of humor. But Gohan seemed to find the most mundane of Piccolo's statements funny, even hilarious. And the Namekian would never understand it.

"You know, after a time, mom didn't really mind you so much." Gohan said, sobering up.

"Yes. And it only took her twenty years." Piccolo said sarcastically, again earning himself an earful of laughter.

"Not twenty! Mom was okay with you holding Pan in the hospital, so it was really only about sixteen years."

"Either way, it took a while." Piccolo's folded arms came to rest by his sides, and he watched Gohan yawn.

"But it was worth it, in the end. You two got along pretty well after that didn't you?" Gohan asked.

"So long as we didn't speak to one another, or look at each other, for any amount of time." Piccolo walked toward the bed.

"Aw, come on. It wasn't that bad." Gohan said smiling. "Besides, who could blame her. You are kinda funny lookin', ya know."

Piccolo snorted and Gohan's smile broadened. He liked teasing Piccolo, the Namek always made a sound or face that amused the demi-Saiyan.

Piccolo stood by Gohan's bed until his younger denshi started nodding off. He knew it was the time of day when Gohan had to sleep for a few hours, and he was ready to meditate outside for a while. Gohan patted Piccolo's arm lightly as his tall friend walked by him, and stood transfixed at his bedside. Piccolo didn't leave Gohan alone anymore, at least not while he was awake. And Gohan appreciated the company, even if all his friend really did was meditate in mid-air.

"I'm glad you're here, I used to get kinda…lonely." Gohan said faintly, smiling up at him. "It's nice to have a friend."

"Hm" Piccolo said, still unable to form words to meet those of his student, even after sixty eight years.

Gohan released Piccolo's arm and shut his eyes, within minutes he'd dozed off for the afternoon. Piccolo looked at him for a minute before ruffling the man's hair, the only genuine act of affection he'd ever allowed himself to perform. He looked at Gohan for a minute, his thoughts scattering to earlier days, less intense…less frustrating days.

Memories of a boy with black spiky hair and a miniature version of his beloved mentor's gi came to mind. What an innocent, carefree boy Gohan had been… and he was always smiling. Why smiling? Because the boy was almost always happy, contrary to his best friend's coarse approach to life. Odd how two such opposites can become such close friends. But, Piccolo no longer questioned it, for fear that he might tempt fate.

Like you really understand loneliness. Piccolo thought at Gohan, though he knew his denshi wasn't going to hear him.

You're right though…it is good to have a friend.

X-x-X-x-X

One day during the week, after Mira had left once again to continue her education, Piccolo sat outside; he meditated under a tree in front of the Son home. The days and weeks seemed to mesh together, and it became impossible to discern one from the other. Gohan seemed to be doing well enough for the time, better the past few days than he had in a long time.

Piccolo was jerked from his thoughts when he heard the not-so-familiar sound of an air car coming his direction. It didn't take long for the vehicle to come into view, when it did Piccolo rolled his eyes in part annoyance, part trepidation, and part relief. It was Goten, Gohan's younger brother…Goku's clone.

Piccolo grunted, he really wasn't one for reunions of any kind. But, for whatever reason, Gohan seemed truly taken with his brother (and had been sense the day the runt was born). The second Son of Goku had also, somehow, managed to worm his way into Piccolo's affection as well, though Piccolo still didn't know how or when it happened.

"Hey there Dill Pickle!" Goten yelled through the open door of the car, though still inside and seated.

Piccolo would have liked to send a ki blast through the metal transportation devise, but found he could only scowl in the direction of his student's brother. The reasons being that first: the man's wife was in the car with him…and she had never irked the Namek the wrong way before, so he had no reason to execute her. Second: Goten was getting old…older than Piccolo liked to admit; and firing a ki blast like that might just kill the guy. So Piccolo endured the hated nick name for Peace's sake, but didn't like it.

"Where's that brother of mine?" He asked buoyantly. Piccolo resisted the urge to punch that goofy grin off the halfling's irreversibly "Son" face.

"Inside. Where else would he be?" Piccolo said, standing and walking toward the pair.

Seemed Goten's wife would never get used to Piccolo's intimidating presence, she tensed as soon as she noticed he was coming closer. But, then, she'd never been around him enough to get past the fangs, claws, skin color and height. Not to mention the very tough looking muscles…ones that could probably crush anything they needed to.

"Okay then, lets go bother the bum." He laughed while walking past Piccolo, his wife not far behind, and into the house.

"Yo! Gohan, where you be?" Goten yelled as he entered the living room, where his brother usually greeted him.

"He's still sleeping." Piccolo said, slightly annoyed, as he entered the house behind them.

"Sleeping? In the afternoon?" Goten asked, eyeing his wife. "Sense when? And Why?"

"For weeks now…and because he's tired." Piccolo snapped angrily.

Goten's mouth clamped, he knew from his friend's tone that he was beginning to lose his cool. So silence ensued for several seconds until Goten's wife decided, out of character as it was for her, to speak up.

"So why are you here Piccolo-sama?" She asked nicely, and formally.

"Drop the formalities, it's just 'Piccolo'."

"Yes. Of course. Then, Piccolo, why are you here? Did you come to visit Gohan too?" She cocked her head slightly and eyed his reaction. Or, rather, his odd lack of reaction. The man had no facial expressions whatsoever. He didn't even blink.

"No." He said.

"Then, what's up?" Goten asked, in his normally flippant tone.

"He's dying. That's what's up." Piccolo said, arms now crossed over his massive chest.

Goten turned his head sharply, trying to avoid the flood of emotions that now ran through him. Tears threatened to make an appearance, but he forced them down. He knew Piccolo hated to see a warrior cry…or anyone cry for that matter.

"Please, Piccolo." Goten's wife said sadly, her cheeks wet from her own tears. How was she to know Piccolo despised said action.

Another awkward round of silence proceeded until Goten's wife had enough.

"This is ridiculous." She stated flatly. "We are adults, lets behave that way."

Piccolo huffed slightly, and Goten nodded consent.

"If you're not here to visit, Piccolo, then why are you here?" She asked again.

"He asked me to stay…" Piccolo began irritably. "So I stayed."

"You mean, like…living here?" Goten asked, somewhat shocked.

"Yes. Have a problem?" Piccolo glared.

"Nope. No problem." Goten said, then he broke into a wide grin and snickered. "That's so sweet of you Piccolo-san. But, then, you always did have a soft spot for Nii-san, didn't you?"

If Piccolo had not been so well trained to keep his anger or embarrassment in check, he would have blushed a fierce violet then punched the intrusive brat in the gut. But, he had more self control than that. He simply snorted.

"That really is very loyal of you, to stay with Gohan while he's…ill." She said, attitude changing somewhat.

"He would do it for me. Now drop it." Piccolo turned and walked down the hallway. He'd heard a sound from the spare bedroom, Gohan's room.

As he entered Gohan was sitting up and scratching his head, then grinned at Piccolo's entrance.

"I was wonderin' where you'd run off to." He laughed, then settled down as he noticed Piccolo's unease. Had Gohan been anyone else, he'd never of noticed Piccolo's slightly narrowed eyes, his more tense arms and hands, or that his ears were pointing out more than usual. But since he was, indeed, Gohan…he noticed.

"What's wrong?" He asked seriously.

"Nothing."

"Don't try to pull one over on me, you know you can't." Gohan smirked at the Namekian. "I can read you like a book."

"So you can." Piccolo said, but fell silent once again.

Just then the door burst open and Goten bounded into the room.

"Oi bro! I heard you were sleepin'. Don't tell me you've gotten that lazy." Goten smiled and nodded toward Piccolo. "But then, I guess anyone would get lazy bein' waited on hand and foot."

Piccolo snorted again (for the second time in ten minutes) and glared daggers at Goten. This was routine for the pair. Goten would do or say anything to rile Piccolo, and Piccolo would have to keep his temper in check. It had not been so when Goten was younger, but by his teenage years he'd found that being a pain was rather enjoyable…at least when dealing with Piccolo. On more than one occasion Goten had gone too far with his favorite Namek, and Gohan had to be the referee.

"Hello Gohan." Came the only feminine voice in the group.

"Hey Clair, you making this lunatic behave himself?" Gohan asked, giving the noticeably aging woman a hug as she bent toward him.

"As always." She said, teasingly hitting Goten's arm.

Goten sat on the edge of the bed and began, what seemed to Piccolo, a long stream of incoherent babble. How Gohan could stay so interested and focused on his idiot brother for so long, Piccolo didn't know. But, to be perfectly honest, Piccolo was glad that Goten had come.

Piccolo was ignorant, for the most part, about issues related to or dealing with family. First of all, he'd never had any. Gohan, at one point in his younger years, had called Piccolo "his big, green uncle"…for which he ultimately got yelled at for. Truth be told, Piccolo liked thinking that in some way, his friendship with Gohan was close enough to be called a brotherhood with him. At least that way he, a former demon, could consider himself a part of a family. His family.

Piccolo hated to succumb to such sentimentality, it was very out of his character. But everyone has their weaknesses, and Gohan (and, unfortunately, basically his whole family) tended to be Piccolo's. Why did Gohan, or Goten, or Pan, or that spoiled little Mira continue to burrow their way into Piccolo's heart? The stoic warrior didn't know (and, in a way, didn't want to find out) why this happened. Irritating to his pride as it was, Piccolo enjoyed feeling wanted…and needed.

As the conversation in the room continued, now entering it's second hour, Piccolo allowed himself to drift almost completely away from the corner of the room. His meditation became deeper, until he dove full force into one unexpected memory from decades earlier. Before Gohan was even married, when Goten was still in diapers. When Gohan was going though, probably, the worst episode of grief and sorrow Piccolo had ever seen.

XxXx--

Piccolo sat in meditation by his waterfall, which he happened to be visiting this particular day. Though he liked staying at the Lookout well enough, he had to come back to this place once in a while. It was the only place he'd ever considered home, just like Earth would always be his home…never Namek.

Feeling his presence even before the boy knew where Piccolo was, the warrior waited patiently for his young apprentice to come to him. It never took long, and it happened every time Piccolo came to his waterfall to meditate. Secretly, and Piccolo would never admit to it, his main reason for visiting the waterfall was not only to be in the lush surroundings…but to see his best friend. Gohan was his best friend, one of the very, very few he considered to be anything near a friend. And he enjoyed the attention Gohan gave him, he made him feel (weak and foolhearty as it may sound) special.

So Piccolo waited. It only took an hour for the boy to make his way over to his mentor, and Piccolo was ready for him when he arrived. But what Piccolo wasn't expecting was the extra bundle the kid had with him. Another little life force was being toted by his student, and almost immediately Piccolo knew who that was.

"Hey Piccolo!" Gohan yelled up at his friend, as he reached the waterfall. "Come on down here."

Piccolo obliged and floated down in front of Gohan. The small toddler in the boy's arms squirmed a little, and clapped his hands above his head joyfully.

Then shouted, as loudly as a near-infant can shout "Piggwowo!". Then smiled triumphantly.

Gohan laughed.

"That's right Goten." He said. "That's Piccolo."

Grunt. "The brat's only seen me once before. How does he know my name?" Piccolo asked.

"I still have your favorite picture of you and me. I've shown it to him lots of times, and told him who you are."

Piccolo's anger rose immediately at being reminded that such a photo existed. It was several years old by now, but one of Gohan's most treasured possessions. One reason being because it truly embarrassed his sensei. And that was a rare feat indeed.

It wasn't Piccolo's fault that the picture had been taken. Goku, that immature (now deceased) ex-enemy of his had done it to make Piccolo mad, so to get a "good spar" out of him. The Saiyan had, somehow (for Piccolo can't fathom how he was able to do it) snuck up on him after he and an eight-year-old Gohan had been training. From the bushes he'd snapped a horrendous picture of Gohan leaning contently against Piccolo's knee…and Piccolo just happened to be ruffling the boys hair at that moment!

Showing affection of any type was not typical of Piccolo at all. But someone, other than Gohan, actually witnessing the action was unheard of…and unwanted. Goku had succeeded in enraging Piccolo, sparing with him, then getting the film developed. And that picture has been the bane of Piccolo's embarrassment since it was taken.

But Gohan liked it.

"There you go." Gohan said, putting little Goten on the ground to play. The child could walk, but he couldn't go very far.

"How've you been sir?" Gohan asked.

"Fine."

"Good." Gohan said, throwing a rock into the lake. "Goten's been saying several words. Right now it's just 'No' and 'Mine' mostly. But last week he said a new word."

When Gohan didn't finish, and Piccolo knew the boy was trying to make conversation, he asked "Well, what was it?"

Gohan sighed, tried skipping another rock, and answered.

"Dada."

It only took a moment for Piccolo to realize that 'dada' was baby talk for "daddy". And after realizing that he put his hand on Gohan's shoulder, trying to send some measure of comfort. The boy was still just that…a boy. Not even fourteen yet, and having to be the man of the house. And Gohan had been mourning his father's lose for more time than Piccolo thought necessary. Yes, losing Goku hurt his family and friends, but you have to let go and move on sometime.

Gohan suddenly lunged himself at Piccolo, wrapping his arms around his teacher's waist and burring his face into his chest. Piccolo didn't really have time to react at first, he just stood there. But when Gohan's frame began to shake with sobs, Piccolo swallowed the harsh reprimand he had on the tip of his tongue about being weak. He pulled his friend closer to him and let Gohan cry it out.

Emotions are never good things to keep locked up. Piccolo knew this better than anyone. And Gohan had never been the type to keep his feelings from Piccolo, he'd always been open with him. But this was different, there was so much pain. And so much guilt he'd tried to bury.

After what seemed like an eternity, and little Goten confused and leaning solemnly against a tree, Gohan began to calm down. He'd somehow crawled into Piccolo's lap, and the two were on the ground. He knew Piccolo really didn't like displays like this, and knew also that Piccolo didn't like for him to be weak. But it hurt. It hurt so bad.

"Are you finished?" Piccolo asked, not sounding as much like an insult as he'd feared.

"Yeah." Gohan said, wiping his eyes. "Sorry. I…just-"

"I mean really finished." Piccolo cut in. "Finished with all this guilt your holding on to."

Gohan looked down. "I can't help it."

"Yes you can." Piccolo said, still allowing Gohan to stay in his lap.

"No I can't! I just feel the way I feel, I have no control over it." Gohan said, tears streaming down his face again.

"Besides," He started. "I should feel guilty. Dad would still be here if it wasn't for me."

Piccolo stood at that, and Gohan was dumped unceremoniously on the ground. He stood next to Piccolo, looking up from red rimmed eyes into cold onyx ones.

"I thought you were past this useless pity party of yours."

"It's not a pity party, Piccolo. It's the truth!" Gohan yelled, voice cracking both from emotions and his age. "Admit it. If I had just halfway listened to what dad was saying, he'd still be here. Say it's the truth Piccolo! Say it!"

"You don't know that." Piccolo started lowly. "Something else might have gone wrong if you'd listened to Goku, Cell might have beaten you somehow…or found another way around you. Think of what would have happened if he'd tried to self-destruct at his full power. He might of just succeeded. Then where would we be?"

Gohan fell silent.

"So, get over it. You might have saved the planet because of what you did. You saved billions, and only lost one."

"So!" Gohan yelled. "That one meant more to me than any of the billions I saved." Gohan glared up at Piccolo. Hurt etched into every corner of his face.

"The fact is I killed dad. I killed him, Piccolo." Gohan sucked in a breath and swallowed a sob. "I'm a murderer, and no better than Cell."

Piccolo lost his composure and smacked Gohan hard across the face. Gohan's eyes widened in both shock and pain, then he held his quickly reddening cheek. He looked down, but Piccolo grabbed the bottom of his jaw and jerked his head up. Their eyes met.

"If you ever say something like that again, I'll hit you ten times harder than that. And I'll keep doing it until you get the message." Piccolo let him go.

"You are good." Piccolo said. "And honest, and loyal, and a hundred other noble things that Cell was not…not by a long shot. So do yourself and your precious family a favor, stop grieving for the lose of your father. He wouldn't want you to keep this up."

Gohan shifted and looked down. When Piccolo growled, he looked back and returned the gaze.

"Do not let hatred for someone else, or yourself, overcome you. I remember what the feeling was like, and trust me…you don't want to know."

Gohan swallowed hard and turned to check on Goten. His brother had nodded off during Gohan's crying spell and was now sleeping against the tree.

"Piccolo." Gohan said.

"What?" Piccolo snapped, still heavily angry (and sympathetic) with the boy.

"Thank you." And then he reached for Piccolo again, this time hugging his friend's torso tightly.

Piccolo realized that some sort of progress had been made, and put his hand on the boy's head.

"You're welcome." He said, slinking away as the hug lasted too long. "Now get outta here. You're too much trouble."

Gohan chuckled slightly, and picked up Goten as he passed the tree.

"Bye Piccolo-san. I'll see you soon."

Grunt. "Yeah. Too soon, I'm sure."

Gohan outright laughed that time and waved goodbye to Piccolo. Piccolo flicked his hand up, his unique form of a wave, and floated up to begin meditation again. Once Gohan was out of sight, and safely home, Piccolo growled and huffed.

Stupid kid. He thought. Never fails to get to me.

He smirked.

Never Fails.

XxXx--

"You know, Piccolo, you snore pretty loud." Goten said, dodging a green fist that came at him (slower than it's capable speed).

"And you smell." Piccolo said, relaxing his legs and standing.

"Oh!" Pan yelled, pointing at her uncle and laughing. "Oh, ho, ho! He got you Unkie!"

"Hehe, well, I'm not much of a bather." Goten grinned and was promptly smacked in the back of the head by Clair.

"You are so embarrassing!" She said, hands over her face.

"Please, someone tell me I'm not really related to you." Gohan said, pointing at his brother.

"Sorry buddy." Goten said. "Were flesh and blood, same genes and all."

"That hasn't been proven yet." Gohan said smirking.

Goten laughed.

Pan sat on the edge of her father's bed and Piccolo looked out the window. It was dusk already and darkening fast, and Pan was home from work. Odd that Piccolo had been meditating for so long, and didn't notice Pan's arrival.

Gohan yawned and scooted down, laying his head on the soft pillow.

"If you guys will excuse me." He said. "I think I'm gonna sleep now."

Goten and Clair walked over to him, said their goodbyes, and left. Pan stayed until her father was asleep, then began cleaning from the mess they'd made earlier. Saiyans had to eat, and her uncle was definitely part Saiyan.

"I love you daddy." She said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Gohan was sleep, and didn't answer. But she knew that, had he been awake, he would have said the same to her. And that was a comforting thought.

"Goodnight Piccolo." She said.

Grunt.

"I wanted to tell you something." She said, her tone changing slightly.

He opened his eyes and faced her.

"Dad seems to be doing very well these past few days."

"Yes. So?"

"Well," She squirmed a bit. "I just wanted to be honest with you. I don't want you to get your hopes up about his…condition."

Piccolo's stone face let no thoughts or emotions penetrate. But he wondered how in the world she'd guessed how he felt. He had, since seeing Gohan's improvement, hoped against hope that he was somehow winning the battle.

"It's just that…" She paused. "I've done a lot of reading on his illness, and others like him. Doctors say that a cancer patient will often times seem to do very well at the…end."

Piccolo swallowed hard.

"I just…" She cleared her throat. "Wanted you to know that, so it wont be such a shock when he…goes."

Piccolo managed a curt nod, and Pan left the room.

Better at the end? Piccolo thought. How absurd is that? Who ever heard of someone doing better just before they die?

But as Piccolo looked at Gohan, something inside him told him it was true. Something told him to prepare himself, Gohan's time was nearly at hand.

"He never fails to get to me." Piccolo whispered, as if in a dream. "Never fails."

---

"Life is grand, and resides so well

By those who wish to see;

That care, and hope and faith do bow,

In awe of Charity.

True friends are more than family

They are not from blood akin,

But loyal are they, and gracious too,

Until thy fateful end…

My life is like the summer rose
That opens to the morning sky,
But ere the shades of evening close
Is scattered on the ground—to die." - Anonymous Author and John Bartlett

Piccolo walked down the hallway, and began to climb the stairs. He stopped short, halfway up, and scrutinized the wooden railing. He recognized his handiwork, and remembered the care with which he'd built it. The smallest of smiles played at the corner of his lips, as he remembered the look on Gohan's face when he'd seen the railing for the first time. Piccolo would never forget.

XxXx--

Gohan and Videl had been engaged for a few weeks, and Gohan was attempting to build them a house. It wasn't far from his parent's house, but close enough to the city that he could get to work without trouble. Gohan was excited and happier than Piccolo had seen him in years. The boy…young man…was anxious to get the house done.

But finances seemed to get him down at times. Gohan would tell Piccolo of how Hercule had offered to give them a place, to lend them any money they needed, even though Piccolo had less knowledge on money than he did family issues. But venting seemed to help Gohan's frazzled nerves and damaged pride. Gohan didn't want to take money he knew he wouldn't be able to pay back soon…if ever.

It angered Piccolo that the idiot human with the big mouth (Hercule, in case you were wondering), who's lucky daughter was marrying the best person Piccolo had ever known, would treat Gohan indifferently sometimes. It was no secret that Hercule had not been all too happy to hear of his "little girl" having a serious boyfriend. And he'd only recently become accustomed to the idea that Gohan was, indeed, going to be his son-in-law soon enough.

The lucky buzzard. He didn't know how good he had it.

One thing Piccolo could remotely respect, or even consider a worthy trait, in Gohan's future mate was that she truly loved his student. It was evident when she looked at him, or talked about him. And Gohan loved her, deeply. Upon realizing this, Piccolo felt more at ease with the prospect of a wedding. If she was the one Gohan loved, then the Namekian would try his best to get along with the female. For Gohan's sake.

As Gohan neared completion of his house, he stated on more than one occasion (more out of sheer frustration than expectancy) that he'd give anything to buy Videl the hand-crafted stair railing she'd been wanting. She didn't outright say it, but he knew she'd been considered borrowing the money from her father to pay for it.

"It's not my money, or your money, or even dad's money anymore. Gohan, it's ours." She'd say.

It was little comfort.

Call it Saiyan pride, or human obstinacy, but Gohan wanted to prove (more to himself than anyone) that he was an adult. He could provide for his wife and, eventually, his family. Piccolo heard the fears, the worries, the hopes, the problems for weeks on end. Never did he suggest anything, or give advise. What advise could a hermit Namek, that lives in the wilderness without a house or family, give to a young boy about to venture full force into family life? None, that's what.

Even as the time for the wedding drew nearer, Gohan became completely engrossed in finishing his home. Really, all that remained was touch up work and a few more nails hammered into place. And, of course, the dreaded stair rail. Gohan wanted to have it so badly he could taste it, and Piccolo rolled his ebony eyes at his pupil every time the subject was brought up.

One day, a week before the wedding, Goku showed up at Kami's lookout to speak with Dende. What for Piccolo didn't know, nor did he care. But he did overhear something that sparked his interest, and his curiosity. Apparently, friends and family are supposed to supply gifts for the happy couple.

Oh h-ll. Piccolo thought. How am I suppose to buy them a present? I don't have money.

Piccolo huffed. And just what do I get them? Feh, this wedding business is nonsense.

And from that moment on Piccolo decided to forget the idea of getting a gift, it was a crazy notion to tease with. And pointless. But then he heard from other Z-senshi, as the wedding day grew nearer, of the presents they planned to give. Seemed everyone was getting in on the action. So why shouldn't Piccolo?

This thought drove Piccolo mad, until he finally set his mind on what he would do. He'd get Gohan that stupid stair railing he'd wanted so bad, and fussed over for so long. If Gohan didn't like it, he could tear it down and use the wood for a bonfire. Either way, at least it would be something.

It took Piccolo two days of blasting the right trees, carving with sharp tools he'd made out of rocks, smoothing, measuring, fitting and binding, to finally finish. But when he was done, it seemed to be that he was, well, proud of himself. Gohan would surely like it. If he didn't, well…he would.

The day before the rehearsal dinner, which Piccolo was unfortunately being forced to attend, he met Gohan at the completed, soon-to-be Son home. Gohan had not went inside yet, he'd felt no need to. He and Videl and decided to save up for that last item, the stair rail, and would get it when they had enough money. Besides, the stairs were not tall enough or narrow enough to be a danger until then.

Gohan noticed Piccolo seemed fidgety. Or, fidgety for Piccolo anyway. Gohan knew almost instantly something was up, or Piccolo had something planned. It was a rare occasion indeed that Piccolo cooked something up. So Gohan's interest of peaked the moment he set foot on his lawn.

"What's up Pic?" Gohan asked, suppressing a smirk as Piccolo grunted in irritation. He really hated nick names.

"Come with me." He said, then turned toward the house.

Odd. Very odd. Gohan couldn't put his finger on it, but something was amiss.

Gohan followed Piccolo through the door and walked into the living room. Instantly his eyes fell upon the stair way, with a finished and new, wooden, engraved railing. Gohan's mouth dropped, he was sure, to the floor. He eyes bugged and his hands found themselves running over the smooth surface of the wood.

Beautiful. Just wonderful, and hand crafted, and a perfect fit.

But how?

"Piccolo!" Gohan jerked his head around, eyeing his mentor carefully. "Did you…I mean, you don't have money! But this is…you…did you build it? How…you?"

Piccolo rolled his eyes and smirked. "Yes me. No I don't have money, you know better than that."

Gohan's mouth shut.

"I built it. So if you don't like it, you can burn it for all I care." Piccolo crossed his arms.

"Piccolo…" Gohan said in wonderment. "I…I don't know what to say."

Gohan ran a hand over the wood again. "I love it. I mean, it's really great." Gohan looked up at his sensei. "You did this for me?"

"No stupid, I did it for Vegeta." Piccolo snorted. "Of course it's for you. You and that mate of yours. Now you can stop bugging me with your nonstop mopping over not having one."

Gohan smiled. "Thank you Piccolo."

Piccolo stood still, then nodded. "Yeah, don't mention it."

"I won't forget this. It'll stay here until the house falls apart, or we die. Whichever comes first."

"This house won't be coming down anytime soon." Piccolo said, spirits lifted for a reason he couldn't explain.

"Nope, and do you know why?" Gohan asked, his arm fondly (though slightly irritating to Piccolo) nudging his mentor's elbow.

"Why?" Piccolo mused.

"Because we built it."

XxXx--

Piccolo snapped himself out of that little trip down memory lane, and finished climbing the stairs. Kami, how did life get so complex? Didn't he used to just have himself to worry about? What ever possessed him to become part of a family, or attempt to anyway? His life was better off simple and easy, not complicated by emotions and memories. Wasn't it?

"Oof!" Pan choked out, as she ran full smack into Piccolo. "For goodness sakes! What are you doing up here?"

She waved her arm back and forth until her path was clear. On any other day she might have laughed about it, or simply overlooked it. But today was different. She could tell the moment she woke up today would be bad. And usually Thursdays weren't too unpleasant, but today certainly was.

Piccolo didn't even bother to grunt, for it would bring more attention to himself. Pan was…well, Pan. She had her good days and bad ones (as Piccolo had become well aware of), and today was definitely a bad one. So, he'd venture into Gohan's old room in a few minutes, when Pan was out of sight.

He had himself a little secret going on. And he had never been one for secrets, or at least any he kept from Gohan. But, the man was sleeping most of the time anymore, so Piccolo didn't feel the need to tell his friend everything he'd been up to. Plus, he'd found that looking through Gohan's family albums to be…educational. Some pictures made him nearly laugh, some sobered him, and one (that was old, worn and faded) that made him both enraged and solaced, though he wasn't exactly sure why.

Pan reached the laundry room with little more trouble. Why did Piccolo venture upstairs so much lately? Though she couldn't be sure (for she worked most week days), she believed Piccolo made a journey to her parents' old room nearly every day. Though the room was neatly arranged and kept up, she couldn't help but feel uneasy walking inside the room her parents had shared for so many years. Them and them alone would sleep in that bed, talk to all hours of the night, and have pillow fights early on many a Saturday morning (ones that Pan would frequently participate in). It almost seemed a violation of her parent's privacy for Piccolo to be slinking around in there.

"Not anymore." She said, putting her basket down and squaring her shoulders.

As she marched up the stairs she paused as she heard something from inside her parents' room shut and one wooden cabinet drawer clank loudly. She knew she wouldn't be able to sneak up on Piccolo, or catch him unawares. But she had hoped to at least see what he was doing.

"What do you want?" Piccolo asked as she walked in, in his normal "Piccolo" tone.

"I want to know what is so fascinating about my parents' room. You're up hear constantly." She crossed her arms and scowled.

"Ask me tomorrow. I'm not going to deal with you today…not in the mood your in."

Pan's eyes widened. "And what's that suppose to mean? I'm just fine!"

Piccolo grunted and walked past her. "I answer to no one girl."

Pan grabbed his arm. "You'll answer to me, or I'll kick you out."

Piccolo snatched her intrusive hand away and practically glided down the steps. When he was on the first floor, and staring up at her, his lips twitched up into a half smirk. "I'd very much enjoy seeing you try."

With that said, he turned and marched into Gohan's room, careful not to wake him.

"Such a bad day." She mumbled, walking into her parents room. "Just what were you up to?"

She looked around the room for any sign of a disturbance, but found nothing. One thing was certain, Piccolo had a keen knack for being unnoticeable.

But wait.

She'd heard a drawer shut, hadn't she? Yes, a wooden cabinet drawer was quickly and loudly shut as she neared the top of the stairs. Good, there were only two to pick from. The first had knick-knacks of her mother's. Wooden animals, class flowers, an ivory elephant, and some jewelry. But definitely nothing Piccolo would have been interested in.

The second was full of photos. Old ones, new ones, hundreds of pictures and cut outs from years past and decades ago were present. At least three huge albums were inside, and Pan took them out and laid them on the made-up bed. She vaguely remembered her parents working on these throughout the years, but never paid it much thought.

The first, dated the earliest, was deep green with leaves and vines imprinted on the front. The second was gold with offwhite outlines. The last was a crimson velvet, with leather straps. Pan opened up the first page and saw copies of very old pictures from her grandfather's childhood. The Supreme Martial Arts Tournaments, Krillin, Yamcha, Master Roshi, Bulma, Lunch, Tien, Chautsu, Oolong, Puar. All of them were outlined or highlighted, cut out and labeled. Someone had put a lot of thought and care into this. Mostly, it had been her father.

XxXx--

"Daddy?" Came the voice of a five year old Pan, clad in a light blue sleeping dress (how her mother had forced her to wear it, Gohan didn't know), rubbing her eyes as she entered the kitchen.

Gohan looked over to the clock, it read 1:17 am.

"Panny, what are you doing up this late?" He asked, and she walked into the light.

"I'm thirsty, and I had a bad dream." She said, sounding utterly putout.

"I'm sorry honey." Gohan said, picking her up and placing her on his knee. "Want me to make you a glass of water?"

"Hm-hum." She agreed, and Gohan sat her in his chair to fix the water.

She looked over the table and saw all the strips of paper, glue brushes, faded pictures and newspaper cutouts.

"Daddy, what's all this?" She asked, touching the leather bound book, full of blank pages. "What kind of book don't have any words?"

Gohan laughed quietly, praying Videl didn't hear them and wonder downstairs. If she did, there'd be HFIL to pay.

"It's a photo album. You put pictures in it, so they'll stay protected and looking nice."

"Oh." She said, plopping into her father's lap as he handed her the water and sat back down.

"Are any of the pictures of me?" She asked, taking a sip.

"Well of course, I'm going to devote a whole book to you." Gohan said, touching her cheek. "You're my princess."

She giggled. "I don't want to be a princess, I want to be a fighter!"

"Oh." Gohan said, sounding contemplative.

"Then you're my little warrior. Like that better?"

She shook her head enthusiastically and grinned. "Yep."

"But, you know, I didn't think warriors were allowed to be so cute." He chuckled at her soured face and ruffled her hair.

"You're done with your water, so it's time for bed." Gohan said, taking the empty glass and putting it in the sink.

"Tuck me in. Tuck me in." She repeated.

"I already did…" He paused. "Four hours ago."

"Again! Again!" She said, more loudly.

"Shhh!" Gohan said, sneaking a peak upstairs for any sign of a light. When there wasn't one, he let out a breath. "Okay, but make it quick."

She jumped up and darted for the stairs, but was careful to climb them slowly and quietly. She too, realized it would be very bad to wake up her mother.

As they reached her door and entered, Gohan turned on a night lamp.

"This should keep those nightmare away." He said, sitting on the edge of her bed while she crawled between the covers.

"G'night daddy." She cooed, sounding like a true five year old child.

"Good night Pan." He said, touching her hair. "I love you."

"I love you too daddy." She said, leaning up and hugging his neck.

"Don't try to grow up too fast, okay?" He said.

"Who wants to grow up?" She asked. "I want to stay little forever."

"Yeah, well, just remember to enjoy it. All of it. It'll go by too quick."

"Okay." She yawned.

Gohan kissed her forehead and stood up. He turned to walk out, but paused to take another look at her before he left the room. She was beautiful. His Pan.

"My princess…and warrior." He said, after he closed the door softly.

XxXx--

Pan wiped away a tear. She couldn't get nostalgic right now, she had two other albums to discover. So this was what interested Piccolo so.

Piccolo.

Pan felt a stab of quilt hit her, so she made her way down the stairs to apologize. She was mean at times, and pushy. But she knew when to admit she was wrong.

She'd not much more than made it two the last step when she felt it, a tremor of…something hit her. Something that sent her backing up against the wall, hugging herself for security.

"W-what…was that?" She asked no one in particular.

"Pan!" Came Piccolo's voice from the doorway to the spare bedroom. He didn't sound normal, but he also didn't sound panicked. But, then, what does Piccolo sound like when he's panicked anyway?

Something was showing on Piccolo's face. Some emotion. Fear? Worry? Pan couldn't tell, but it wasn't good whatever it was.

"Come here quick." He said, and it was all he could do to keep himself from grabbing her and throwing her into the room.

"Why? What it is?" She asked, though she barely recognized her own voice as the words exited her mouth.

"I think…" Piccolo swallowed. "I think it's time."

"B-but-" She was cut off by a painfully loud intake of breath from her father.

Instantly she was beside him, practically laying on the bed with him.

"Daddy?"

He didn't answer.

"Oh, please don't go yet. I haven't…" She swallowed a sob. "I haven't said goodbye."

Piccolo was nearby, she could tell somehow. But her focus was on her father at the moment. He was still breathing, raspy and unsteady, but breathing nonetheless.

"P…Pan?" Gohan managed, then opened his eyes. "Pan?"

"I'm here dad." She said.

Gohan's eyes swam in his head, and his chest felt as though it would burst open any moment. He looked around, but didn't see. He knew Piccolo was close by, but couldn't see or hear him. Pan was beside him, holding him.

"I'm here." Piccolo said calmly, answering Gohan's silent question.

For several minutes nothing was said or done, but then Pan spoke.

"Daddy, I just want you to know how much I love you." She didn't even bother wiping away any tears that streaked down her reddened face. "You've been so good to me and mom. You did everything right. I don't have any regrets, not a single one."

She felt him squeeze her hand, and she continued.

"I know you wanted to make things better for me than they were for you, you know what I mean. And, you did that. I couldn't of asked for a better father. I should have told you this sooner, or been a better daughter somehow…you deserve the best."

Gohan had his own tears by then, and held his empty hand up to touch her face. "Wouldn't …of wanted…anyone…but you." He said, lowly and breathily, but clearly. "No regrets."

She smiled. "No regrets."

He smiled to, a shaky one, but genuine.

Piccolo didn't move or breathe for a while, afraid he'd interrupt such a…delicate moment. Ignorance on family issues was one thing, but knowing when to shut up and let sentiments be sentiments was something completely different.

Without warning Pan used her free hand to clasp Piccolo's, without even bothering to turn away from the bed. Piccolo tensed instantly, but eventually relaxed into the new contact. At this point, he would just have to go with the flow of things. For one of the very few times in his life his feelings, and not his intellect, were taking control of his actions.

Pan pulled Piccolo over to her and Gohan, until all three were side by side, touching in some way. Piccolo had never been in such a predicament before, but it wasn't until days later that he let himself worry about how weak he must have looked. He was hurting too, as much as Pan…if not more. Gohan was truly the son he'd never had, and he was dying.

It didn't take long, for that both Pan and Piccolo were grateful, Gohan didn't have to keep suffering. It was only when his grip was completely gone, and no trace of his ki could be sensed, that Pan allowed herself to completely break down and weep. Her father was gone, she knew, to a better place.

Piccolo didn't let go of Pan's hand or Gohan's, for he'd had a hold on them both, until Pan was finished crying and ready to do what was necessary of her. She held up better than Piccolo had imagined she would have. But then, she was Son Pan.

She was her father's daughter.

---

"Death is a dialogue between

The spirit and the dust.

"Dissolve," says Death. The Spirit, "Sir,

I have another trust."

Death doubts it, argues from the ground.

The Spirit turns away,

Just laying off, for evidence,

An overcoat of clay…

Death sets a thing significant

The eye had hurried by,

Except a perished creature

Entreat us tenderly…

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And immortality." - Emily Dickinson

What can be said of the funeral? The wake was elaborate, no expense spared; the burial was even more grand. His tomb stone was marked, next to his wife, and read:

Son Gohan

Loving Husband and Father,

Brother and Son.

A Cherished Friend.

Forever Loved,

Forever Remembered.

-Rest In Peace-

Well written, and very true. All who knew him, knew it to be so. And all who knew him, mourned. And all who loved him, would never forget.

"Death sets a thing significant?" Piccolo repeated, as he rewound the memory of Gohan's funeral in his head, for what seemed the millionth time.

Three months had passed, and Piccolo repeated that line the preacher had stated daily. The phrase didn't make sense, at least to Piccolo.

"He was significant before he died." Piccolo had argued with himself at first. "He was important and significant to me and a dozen others. That preacher didn't know what he was talking about."

But, now, Piccolo understood a little better what that phrase had meant. But he was drawn full force into the present when he heard a child's wail from the water below.

The kid had fallen in again.

Piccolo floated down quickly and scooped up the tiny life, and put it back on the embankment.

"I told you to stay away from the water. You're too young to swim." Piccolo crossed his arms and the little one tried to do the same, but fell over from lack of balance.

"Still not mastered standing up yet, eh?" Piccolo said, but less sarcastic than he'd intended.

"Abbsagooo." The little child said, trying in an earnest effort to stand up again. He succeeded.

"Practice makes perfect kid." Piccolo said. "And you'd better be grateful that I met Gohan before you, or you'd be in for a rude awakening."

The child smiled, his antennae bouncing along with his head and his pointed elfin ears twitching at the odd sound that he could make. Then he looked up at Piccolo, his father.

"Goggaan." He said, and Piccolo smirked. He'd certainly said the name enough around the kid.

"Yeah, he's the one to blame." Piccolo said. "You're all his fault."

The child yawned and tried to grab a hold of his father's gi, but fell. So Piccolo picked the child up and let him sleep in his lap while he meditated. Déjà vu kicked in forcefully and Piccolo had to suppress and memory of Gohan doing the exact same thing, many years earlier.

"Death sets a thing significant." He repeated again, by now he fully understood it's meaning.

Gohan's death had born in Piccolo the insatiable urge to…procreate. Why? Who knew, Piccolo didn't. For weeks after Gohan's death Piccolo couldn't think of anything or anyone else but his former student. How would Piccolo be able to live for the next…however many decades or centuries without him?

Then the answer came to him. Gohan's death allowed for Piccolo to consider something else, someone else. It had made life significant, Piccolo's life. And Kossu, his son's, life. And all of it was Gohan's fault, it was all his doing.

Thank you Gohan. Piccolo thought, looking down at Kossu.

Thanks for everything.

Fin